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Chapter or Story
Okay, everyone, Blackdiamond had some stuff that held up the next part for two weeks, and to be fair to those waiting to write, I decided, as the RR originator, to reclaim part 6 and do it. I wrote Blackdiamond to let her know and invited her to claim another part when she’s ready. Enjoy --
Disclaimer in Part 1
The Truth Hurts
Part 6
by N.R. Levy
Twelve hours had passed, and Parker had not made a sound. To Jarod, that made the twelve hours seem like twelve weeks. Nothing, not so much as a moan of displeasure when they’d taken her blood or rolled her downstairs for the MRI – she had given no indication that her soul was still inside of her body.
The good news was that Dr. MacKenna’s tests had all come back negative, meaning there was no indication that Parker had suffered brain damage or a serious head trauma. The bad news was that she was still unconscious, and no one understood why. Everything they checked-- blood, nerve responses--everything came back normal, which meant they were no closer now to finding out what Parker’s injury was than they’d been when Jarod had found her lying in her car by the roadside.
A loud thunderclap struck, and Jarod reached out and took up her hand in his own again. Marley had long since given up trying to convince him to go home and rest, and Dr. MacKenna had finally gone to get some sleep herself, leaving him alone with Parker. As he stared at her and the cold, damp night began to seep into his bones, Jarod couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the conversation he’d had earlier with Marley, just after they’d taken Parker off to do some more tests.
“Marley, what did you mean about Violet’s dream coming true?”
“Ah, Jarod, she had a terrible one ‘bout you and the lass. That someone ye trusted had trapped the two of ye on opposite sides of a piece of glass. She said no matter how hard ye two tried, you couldn’t get to one another.”
Just hearing those words, that they “couldn’t get to each other,” made Jarod’s heart tighten. So many years of their lives, hadn’t that been the truth of it? Perhaps, rather than dreaming about something in the future, what Granny Violet had really dreamt of was their past. He was about to say so when Marley continued.
“The worst part, she said, be that you and the lass had trusted the wrong person...that was how ye got put apart.”
A nurse had approached then, saying that there was a phone call for Marley. She’d gone off to take it and returned a short time later with news that Violet had gotten worse. Jarod had insisted she return home then. Violet had been too good to them to die without her beloved granddaughter by her side.
Unfortunately, as the time passed and his mind began to plague him, Jarod was beginning to think that there was more to Grannie Violet’s dream than he’d originally thought. It did seem that, throughout the years they’d known each other, something always did manage to come between them. The Centre, Mr. Parker, Sydney, her going away to school – there was always some force pulling them in opposite directions. Was it happening again? Had they found each other only to have that terrible pre-ordained dark cloud find them once again?
He shook his head and tried to push those thoughts away, but Jarod found it impossible. Something felt so wrong to him. The police theorized that Parker had lost control on black ice, but Jarod had driven that same road and hadn’t had any problems. Why had Parker, a woman who thought 100 miles per hour was a safe cruising speed, lost control of her car on the easiest stretch of the road?
He was nearly fixated on this line of thought, but Jarod’s mind switched gears instantly when he felt Parker’s hand move slightly against his own. He moved closer to her bedside, his eyes locked on her face. Yes, he saw it, the first signs of her coming around. One minute passed, then another, and then a few more, but finally her eyelids began to blink open, and her free hand moved to her head, shielding her eyes from the light in the room. Jarod instantly noticed how sensitive she seemed to be, though the main light was switched off, and only the small light to the side of the bed was on.
“Beautiful. What the hell happened to me?” Her voice was ragged, but strong, and it made Jarod’s heart lighten to hear it.
“You were in a car accident.”
Jarod had barely finished the sentence before Parker sat bolt upright in bed, pulling her hand free of his hold as she looked anxiously around the room.
“Jarod? What the hell are you doing here? Where is here, anyway?”
“The hospital in Inverness.”
“As in Scotland?” Parker’s hand returned to her head, this time rubbing at the center of her forehead as if she were trying to push something away.
“Yes, Parker, Inverness, Scotland. Don’t you remember?”
As Jarod spoke, he moved closer to her again, his hand reaching for hers. But he felt his blood run cold as Parker ripped her hand away again, her blue eyes leveling on him with a cold gaze he knew all to well.
“Look, Jarod, the Florence Nightingale thing’s already gotten old, okay? So back off.”
He’d been hit in the stomach with a lead pipe and had it hurt less than the tone of her voice. It was as if nothing from the past few months had ever happened, as if them coming together, first as allies and then as lovers, was a figment of his imagination. His whole body began to shake with the impact of what that meant before the doctor that always loomed in his brain managed to begin processing information. As quickly as his heartache had begun to rise, it change from emotional pain to medical concern.
“Parker, what’s the last thing you remember?”
She looked up at him with eyes full of annoyance, but just hearing the question made her begin to think about it, and within moments, she had an answer.
“The picture – we both got e-mailed the picture of our mothers. What did I do, go out and drink too much?”
He wanted more than anything to pull her into his arms right then, because he knew what he was about to say would terrify her, but he couldn’t, not now. She would only push him away, and he didn’t need to cause her anymore upset than he was going to have to by telling her the truth.
“That picture, Parker, it was e-mailed to us four months ago.”
Her mouth fell open, and she wanted to yell at him, to scream at him and tell him that he was lying, that he was trying to play games with her, but she didn’t. She said nothing because she was too busy listening to the tiny voices whose mutterings began to take clear shape in her mind.
“There is danger in the truth. There is safety in remembering.”
***
The night had turned especially cold, and Margaret climbed from the bed to stoke the fire in her bedroom. Jarod would come soon. She knew that. It was simply impossible for her to erase both of their memories this time, and so Jarod would know that something was wrong. But that very knowledge would provide Margaret the opportunity she needed to “fix” the situation to her advantage.
She had learned one lesson. Her son and his mate had grown far too close this time. The session needed to wipe the last four months from Miss Parker’s mind was twice as powerful as the one they’d used five years ago. Their bond was growing, and that meant she had very little time left to mold the heirs into the image she wanted. That meant coming up with a plan to use Miss Parker’s sudden “memory loss” to help accomplish that goal. The question was how?
A knock sounded on her door, and Margaret walked over and opened it. Donal Ferguson stood outside, his face cast downward so he would not have to look at her.
“Sorry to bother, ma’am, but I best be gettin’ back. Word is Miss Violet won’t last much longer.”
“Then go, and remember, Donal, you did the right thing. I’m sure your little grandson will think so.”
Donal nodded, his eyes staying on the floor.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Margaret secured the door as the old man walked away. Funny how time changes things. There were days, long ago, when using a small child to control someone else would have troubled her. But those days were long gone, buried with Catherine’s goodness and the innocence of their children. But it had all been for a greater good; it had been Catherine who didn’t understand that. Catherine and Charles. She wondered where her do-gooder husband was now. Probably off caring for Emily. So be it. For the time being, none of the others were of concern. All that mattered was finally bringing Miss Parker and Jarod into their rightful places within the Centre.
Disclaimer in Part 1
The Truth Hurts
Part 6
by N.R. Levy
Twelve hours had passed, and Parker had not made a sound. To Jarod, that made the twelve hours seem like twelve weeks. Nothing, not so much as a moan of displeasure when they’d taken her blood or rolled her downstairs for the MRI – she had given no indication that her soul was still inside of her body.
The good news was that Dr. MacKenna’s tests had all come back negative, meaning there was no indication that Parker had suffered brain damage or a serious head trauma. The bad news was that she was still unconscious, and no one understood why. Everything they checked-- blood, nerve responses--everything came back normal, which meant they were no closer now to finding out what Parker’s injury was than they’d been when Jarod had found her lying in her car by the roadside.
A loud thunderclap struck, and Jarod reached out and took up her hand in his own again. Marley had long since given up trying to convince him to go home and rest, and Dr. MacKenna had finally gone to get some sleep herself, leaving him alone with Parker. As he stared at her and the cold, damp night began to seep into his bones, Jarod couldn’t help but let his mind wander back to the conversation he’d had earlier with Marley, just after they’d taken Parker off to do some more tests.
“Marley, what did you mean about Violet’s dream coming true?”
“Ah, Jarod, she had a terrible one ‘bout you and the lass. That someone ye trusted had trapped the two of ye on opposite sides of a piece of glass. She said no matter how hard ye two tried, you couldn’t get to one another.”
Just hearing those words, that they “couldn’t get to each other,” made Jarod’s heart tighten. So many years of their lives, hadn’t that been the truth of it? Perhaps, rather than dreaming about something in the future, what Granny Violet had really dreamt of was their past. He was about to say so when Marley continued.
“The worst part, she said, be that you and the lass had trusted the wrong person...that was how ye got put apart.”
A nurse had approached then, saying that there was a phone call for Marley. She’d gone off to take it and returned a short time later with news that Violet had gotten worse. Jarod had insisted she return home then. Violet had been too good to them to die without her beloved granddaughter by her side.
Unfortunately, as the time passed and his mind began to plague him, Jarod was beginning to think that there was more to Grannie Violet’s dream than he’d originally thought. It did seem that, throughout the years they’d known each other, something always did manage to come between them. The Centre, Mr. Parker, Sydney, her going away to school – there was always some force pulling them in opposite directions. Was it happening again? Had they found each other only to have that terrible pre-ordained dark cloud find them once again?
He shook his head and tried to push those thoughts away, but Jarod found it impossible. Something felt so wrong to him. The police theorized that Parker had lost control on black ice, but Jarod had driven that same road and hadn’t had any problems. Why had Parker, a woman who thought 100 miles per hour was a safe cruising speed, lost control of her car on the easiest stretch of the road?
He was nearly fixated on this line of thought, but Jarod’s mind switched gears instantly when he felt Parker’s hand move slightly against his own. He moved closer to her bedside, his eyes locked on her face. Yes, he saw it, the first signs of her coming around. One minute passed, then another, and then a few more, but finally her eyelids began to blink open, and her free hand moved to her head, shielding her eyes from the light in the room. Jarod instantly noticed how sensitive she seemed to be, though the main light was switched off, and only the small light to the side of the bed was on.
“Beautiful. What the hell happened to me?” Her voice was ragged, but strong, and it made Jarod’s heart lighten to hear it.
“You were in a car accident.”
Jarod had barely finished the sentence before Parker sat bolt upright in bed, pulling her hand free of his hold as she looked anxiously around the room.
“Jarod? What the hell are you doing here? Where is here, anyway?”
“The hospital in Inverness.”
“As in Scotland?” Parker’s hand returned to her head, this time rubbing at the center of her forehead as if she were trying to push something away.
“Yes, Parker, Inverness, Scotland. Don’t you remember?”
As Jarod spoke, he moved closer to her again, his hand reaching for hers. But he felt his blood run cold as Parker ripped her hand away again, her blue eyes leveling on him with a cold gaze he knew all to well.
“Look, Jarod, the Florence Nightingale thing’s already gotten old, okay? So back off.”
He’d been hit in the stomach with a lead pipe and had it hurt less than the tone of her voice. It was as if nothing from the past few months had ever happened, as if them coming together, first as allies and then as lovers, was a figment of his imagination. His whole body began to shake with the impact of what that meant before the doctor that always loomed in his brain managed to begin processing information. As quickly as his heartache had begun to rise, it change from emotional pain to medical concern.
“Parker, what’s the last thing you remember?”
She looked up at him with eyes full of annoyance, but just hearing the question made her begin to think about it, and within moments, she had an answer.
“The picture – we both got e-mailed the picture of our mothers. What did I do, go out and drink too much?”
He wanted more than anything to pull her into his arms right then, because he knew what he was about to say would terrify her, but he couldn’t, not now. She would only push him away, and he didn’t need to cause her anymore upset than he was going to have to by telling her the truth.
“That picture, Parker, it was e-mailed to us four months ago.”
Her mouth fell open, and she wanted to yell at him, to scream at him and tell him that he was lying, that he was trying to play games with her, but she didn’t. She said nothing because she was too busy listening to the tiny voices whose mutterings began to take clear shape in her mind.
“There is danger in the truth. There is safety in remembering.”
***
The night had turned especially cold, and Margaret climbed from the bed to stoke the fire in her bedroom. Jarod would come soon. She knew that. It was simply impossible for her to erase both of their memories this time, and so Jarod would know that something was wrong. But that very knowledge would provide Margaret the opportunity she needed to “fix” the situation to her advantage.
She had learned one lesson. Her son and his mate had grown far too close this time. The session needed to wipe the last four months from Miss Parker’s mind was twice as powerful as the one they’d used five years ago. Their bond was growing, and that meant she had very little time left to mold the heirs into the image she wanted. That meant coming up with a plan to use Miss Parker’s sudden “memory loss” to help accomplish that goal. The question was how?
A knock sounded on her door, and Margaret walked over and opened it. Donal Ferguson stood outside, his face cast downward so he would not have to look at her.
“Sorry to bother, ma’am, but I best be gettin’ back. Word is Miss Violet won’t last much longer.”
“Then go, and remember, Donal, you did the right thing. I’m sure your little grandson will think so.”
Donal nodded, his eyes staying on the floor.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Margaret secured the door as the old man walked away. Funny how time changes things. There were days, long ago, when using a small child to control someone else would have troubled her. But those days were long gone, buried with Catherine’s goodness and the innocence of their children. But it had all been for a greater good; it had been Catherine who didn’t understand that. Catherine and Charles. She wondered where her do-gooder husband was now. Probably off caring for Emily. So be it. For the time being, none of the others were of concern. All that mattered was finally bringing Miss Parker and Jarod into their rightful places within the Centre.
